Page 83 of Sling’s Awakening

So fucking pissed as my girl lands perfectly in the splits and takes the top off, revealing the pair of tits I fucking own. The only thing the crowd can’t see are her fucking nipples.

I hear Mountain snicker, making me look over. “You doin’ okay?”

I grunt.

I can’t take my eyes off the stage long enough to think of a response.

No, I’m not fucking okay.

My girl is up on stage taking her clothes off for money in front of guys who want to fuck her, and she hasn’t even acknowledged me.

Bad fucking girl.

A growl leaves my lips as I watch her raise her arm that’s holding the top she stripped off, looking like she’s going to throw it into the crowd.

She freezes as she looks right at me, finally seeing me for the first time tonight.

Oh, you fucked up tonight, toots.

I took it easy on her when she had Mountain mow her lawn. She has no idea of the beast she just awoke.

I grab the glass of whiskey and down it before crooking my finger at her, demanding she come to me.

It pleases me that she’s complying so well as I watch her strut off the stage, heading right toward me.

But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m pissed at her.

So fucking pissed.

She thought the ass spanking I gave her before was a lot, she’s in for a fucking ride tonight.

Blake straddles me in rhythm to the Nickelback song that’s playing through the speakers. My fingers are itching to touch her body that’s all slick and oiled up, just begging for me to caress.

Her scent combined with the way her body feels against mine is doing my head in.

I can feel every man in the room watching us. They’re all wishing they were in my seat with Blake’s round ass and ample tits pressed up against them.

But it’s not theirs to touch.

It’s not even theirs to fucking look at.

I force my hands to stay at my side as she grinds down on my cock. I may not be touching her, but she can feel what she’s doing to me.

I’m a man after all; I can only control one head at a time.

I can tell from the look in her eyes that she’s stressing.

I was doing so well until this little minx nips at my ear before whispering, “You knew this was my job, big guy. Why are you mad?”

My body tenses as I’m smacked in the face with a reminder of why I’m pissed as hell at her.

I know what my girl’s fucking job is, and stripping isn’t it.

I don’t hate her for doing it in the past, and I don’t knock any woman that currently does it. It’s hard fucking work. I just don’t want men looking at what’s mine thinking they can have it for the night.

The way they’re all looking at her right now makes me want to fucking kill someone.

And her giving me lip is just icing on the cake, as I feel the money they’ve stuffed in her thong rub against me.